Blood Runs Thickest
by soulglutton98
Summary: Everything was ruined when "IT" appeared that day. When the entire world was thrown into a frenzied apocalyptic panic. No one was safe, no one could be trusted. Lest you end up as one of "THEM". It's safest not to fall in love during these times anyways. Alas some can't help it. A/N: a human AU i thought of!
1. A car around the corner

One of them lunged for Matthew's throat. He jabbed his hockey stick at a certain angle into their neck, effectively breaking it. Another came at him from behind, he whipped around and knocked them to the ground. Proceeding to curb stomp their jaw, as he fended off another. He watched out of the corner of his eye as he turned to take care of the one he was fending off, he watched the other as it staggered to its feet. Jaw slack and litterly swinging from side to side. Gargling noises came from deep within it, inhuman hungry starved noises resounding around him.

He calmly watched as It staggered toward him, never taking his eyes off It. All focus on the instinct to survive this, all senses trained on the adrenaline rushing past his ears. He didn't hear the shriek of tires as he knocked It back down. He didn't notice the crunch of their bodies, for he was occupied by severing Its head from Its shoulders. He never noticed the van until a strong rough hand grabbed the back of his hoodie.

Matthew swung out in confusion and fear. Fear that one of them had gotten him, that he was about to become infected. That he'd never see them again. His hockey stick made contact with the van ceiling, hearing the wood clatter to the floor somewhere in the van. He caught a glimpse of It beginning to lumber toward the car door before it was slammed shut.

Forest green eyes quickly overtook his entire vision, they bore into him for only a second before the mouth asked in a clear urging British accent, "Were you bitten?" he mulled over the question for only a second before shaking his head in a vigorous 'no'.

The green searched his eyes for only a moment longer before leaving his plane of vision. Matthew began to notice and register his surroundings as he felt five different pairs of eyes on him. The van was a classic family-trip-cross-country-with-kid's-friends-and-going-to-soccer-practice. With gray, worn, somehow comfortable looking seats.

Matthew was surprised at how quickly tired he was now getting that his adrenaline high was going away, 'Of course your tired. You've been up for the past 48 hours, and when you did get sleep it was always short.' thought Matthew as he proceeded to take in the other people in the car with him.

First he saw the same pair of green staring at him; the green also had huge eyebrows, messy bright blonde hair, a scowl, and a complexion even paler than his. The green also had a rather skinny long lithe body. He then proceeded to stare at the blue sitting next to the green, but it wasn't _his_ blue, sadly. The blue was French, with a slightly tanner complexion, a healthy dusting of a beard on his chin, the way he sat showed off his long legs, and his height; blue was easily on the 5 foot 6 or 7 scales. Peering out from behind blue was another pair of green, except this green was brighter. It didn't immediately bring to mind pictures of a dense forest canopy. Not at all in fact this green was almost like how the ocean was green, except darker. The complexion was easily the darkest in the car, with waves of dark hair to go with it, his height was around 5 foot 6 inches. Peering out reluctantly next to ocean green was a kind of honey brown, with slightly darker hair, a hideous disapproving grimace, and a curl signifying Italian heritage.

Matthew looked over green, blue, ocean green, and honey brown one more time before he confronted the pair he still felt on his neck. Turning slowly he was frozen in place when violet met crimson. Crimson seemed just as frozen, giving Matthew a chance to overlook crimson. Crimson was hard to tell his height, but obviously an albino. With short white hair and just as white eyebrows, he seemed to be glowing. The two stared at each other like this until there was a bang against the side of the car.

"Time we got going albino bastard." Matthew overheard the Italian mutter.

"Right." muttered 'Albino bastard' as he turned and started the van back up again. Matthew reached numbly in the direction of his hockey stick. Finally feeling his fingers graze the familiar material he grabbed it, and rushed to sit in the front passenger seat of the car. Matthew felt extremely uncomfortable sitting in the back with all those pairs of eyes staring at him. He clambered to the front a bit awkwardly at first, than mercifully he was allowed to slide into the rest of the seat with ease. Buckling himself in, Matthew appeared unfazed when they ran over one of them, audibly hearing the sound of bones crushing and organs being pulverized by rubber.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the car's occupants. Matthew knew he made them nervous, anyone would be nervous in their situation. 'Albino bastard' gulped and decided to break the uncomfortable silence.

"So, Francy –pants, where's this 'sanctuary' you've been telling us about?" Matthew's ears perked up at the mention. Maybe if he went with them to this 'sanctuary' he'd get to see his brother again. He felt hope bubbling in his stomach, which wasn't a good thing. So he quickly let his logic squash it.

"Well, you see Gilbert, all I know is it's somewhere in the United States" responded a French accent from 'Francy-pants'. When he heard it was in the US Matthew knew exactly where they wanted to go. He let the hope bubble up again, because now he knew his brother must've been alive.

"Oh dear!~ Amigo why did you not tell us you knew no more?" exclaimed a Spanish accented voice who Matthew could only assume was ocean green. He squirmed in his seat, he needed to tell them he knew where they wanted to go. Yet as per usual no one was paying him any mind.

"STUPID WINE BASTARD, YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT WE'VE BEEN DRIVING AIMLESSLY THROUGH THIS GOD FORSAKEN MAPLE DRINKING COUNTRY?" Matthew cringed at the sudden change in volume in the car. Hugging his hockey stick close to him, he sought consolement from an inanimate object. Matthew's mind had flitted to somewhere else as the shouting continued in the car. At one point he looked back at his coincidental companions.

The first thing he noticed was green, hunkered down in his seat, leaning against Francis (as it was revealed by ocean green during the fight), looking sick and ready to relieve himself all over the car. Next he saw the Italian, apparently called Lovino, huffing in what appeared as defeat. He took some time observing the rest in the car, before settling again on Arthur (Francis had asked them all to shut up because he was sleeping). He looked even sicker, and his eyes were glazed over as if he were drunk. Matthew didn't like the look of it, he'd have to keep his guard up and an eye on him.

Taking one last cautious glance at Arthur, he was pulled away by a German accent asking him a question. What had it been? Matthew had missed it, his name? He was asking his name? Struck dumb by the suddentity of the question Matthew didn't answer.

Instead he stared at Gilberts crimson orbs, like two large drops of blood in milk. He watched as the setting sun silhouetted his profile. He looked at the other man's eyelashes; he stared as pieces of sun seemed to catch in the snowy trestles. Even his skin seemed to glow. In that single moment he was the most beautiful thing Matthew had ever seen. Despite them, despite everything that had happened, he was amazed he could still find beauty in this godforsaken abandoned world. He felt himself go speechless at the beauty, which wasn't good. Matthew couldn't let himself get attached to any of them. He knew it was only a matter of time before any of them got infected and he had to kill them.

Allowing himself one more second of admiration directed at the silverette. Matthew turned to stare at the passing scenery. Knowing that he'd surly forgotten he'd asked him a question in the first place.

"Hello? Anyone home? Can you talk?" Matthew snapped his head around to the rest of the van. He'd been so caught up in his admiration of the albino he hadn't noticed the rest of the car go silent in anticipation. Matthew didn't respond again deciding it better to not tell them anything, just in case.

He turned to the back of the van, shaking his head no.

"Oh pauvre enfant, you cannot speak?" asked Francis, to which Matthew shook his head 'yes'. Matthew could speak, he just chose not to.

The rest of the car got silent as everyone digested this new piece of information from their little picked up companion. As the silence settled so did the sun, and everyone silently agreed to stop somewhere for at least a few hours. So their trusty driver could rest. Everyone settled in with guns and weapons. Matthew simply stayed sitting with his trusty hockey stick. He was resigning himself to three hours of keeping a careful eye on Arthur when a gun was pushed into his hands.

Matthew wasn't good with guns, preferring his hockey stick over something that left you vulnerable when it ran out of bullets. He stared at it, then at the pale hand still on it with his. He turned to see Arthur's forest green eyes locked with his. For only a second Matthew saw something that terrified him to his core.

At least more than three hours had past as the van door was pushed open by a shaking weak hand. The figure stumbled a few feet before crouching down and relieving himself of half rotten intestines. The blood came with them splattering the earth with a gorgeous red. The figure walked only two more steps before collapsing onto his knees.

Head turned toward the empty sky the infected human welcomed the steps behind them. Turning their torso proved difficult, so they settled on simply turning completely. Once completely turned around, their eyes met pitying violet orbs.

"'Ello. Glad you decided to come after all." said Arthur, Matthew nodded.

Arthur's breathing turned raspy once again, and he bent down to begin retching loudly enough this time to have the others in the van begin stirring. One more convulse of his body, and Arthur relieved himself of more bright red blood. The splattering sound was loud to get someone to wake up.

"OI! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT NOISE YOU BASTARDS?" came the shout of Lovino. Arthur couldn't help but curse him, but also thank him. This way they'd know what happened.

"Hey where's Arthur?" shouted the panicked desperate Frenchmen. Arthur began to chuckle out of pity for the man. Pity because he'd see him like this. Arthur began convulsing once again, throwing up more blood than ever before. He saw out of the haze that his vision had become with that previous upheaval the van's door slide open to the scene that surely didn't look good.

"Arthur!" exclaimed Francis as the man attempted to rush to the aid of his lover, abruptly stopped by Matthew holding up his hockey stick to block him. Francis looked from Arthur to Matthew searching for an explanation; Matthew simply shook his head no at the man.

"Please, can you do one thing for me?" the question was addressed to Matthew so he looked down at the dying man below him, "Can you tell me your name?"

Arthur began upheaving again. He felt his conscious slipping away from him. Life fleeing from his infected body, and his pulse began abandoning him. Arthur upheaved one more time before he looked at Matthew with dull eyes, begging. Everyone became silent at Arthur's question.

Matthew breathed in, "Matthew, my name is Matthew Williams," Arthur smiled faintly before collapsing dead. Within a matter of seconds his body began moving again, a low guttural hungry moan escaped his now blue lips. He now only knew the hunger for flesh, for true life.

Matthew stared at him with no emotion. His face blank and eyes cold to the world. He raised the gun Arthur had given him before, aimed it carefully at his forehead, and pulled the trigger. The loud clap resounded around them, and was sure to attract 'their' attention. Turing quickly on his heel Matthew practically sprinted to the car, shouting behind him the whole way.

"HURRY! THAT SOUND SURELY GOT 'THEIR' ATTENTION! GET INTO THE CAR!" all to stunned by what just happened to argue, everyone knew he was right anyway. They clambered into the car, and gilbert started the engine.


	2. the unforseen incident

Gilbert kept his eyes focused on the stretch of cement in front of the van. Yet he couldn't help to keep his eyes from flitting from the road, to the man sitting next to him. To Matthew, he glanced over and had the wind knocked out of him when he saw violet staring back at him.

He also couldn't keep remembering what happened, Arthur had been infected. He'd been infected the entire time probably. Gilbert gripped the steering wheel. Anger gripped him, anger began coursing through his vision. He had put them all in danger of becoming like 'them' as well.

"He wasn't infected from the beginning." Gilbert jumped at the sound of a quiet cold voice resounding from beside him. He glanced over temporarily to Matthew. Despite him still driving he kept staring at the man. The outside world was racing by somehow highlighting his features. His nose was obviously broken at one point, violet orbs staring straight ahead, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration. His hair fell across his cheek in short flowing strawberry blonde hair. The blush crept up and took control of his cheeks quicker than he thought it would

"What do you mean?" he heard a familiar French accent ask. Only this wasn't the lively happy haughty accent he knew. This accent was devoid of emotion, it reflected possibly everything Francis felt inside. He sounded hurt, angry, and depressed. Gilbert glanced back at him in the mirror, short moment of eye contact, and an apologetic smile from the albino.

"The way he was acting when I got here," began Matthew, "he was too far lost in the infection. He started rejecting food didn't he?" Gilbert glanced over to Matthew who staring out the windshield like it had personally offended him. The car fell silent as it all dawned on them; Arthur had been rejecting food for the past couple of days. They all thought he just had a temporary illness. No, that was wrong, deep down they all knew on some subconscious level. None of them wanted to voice the truth, knowing that if correct. Francis' heart would break in two.

"Yes. He did start to reject food. How was that a sign of the infection?" asked Gilbert. His question rang through the car, all curious

"Because by then his stomach acids would've started to eat his organs, not to mention the craving for human flesh would no doubt have started to take control by then. It was also the way he was acting. He seemed sleepy, and his eyes were glazed over. Also his pupils were dilated like he was high or something. It's another sign." Matthew stated all of this as if it was common knowledge.

"How the hell do you know so fucking much?" came the peeped question from the back of the van. Matthew glared into the review mirror at Lovino, who shrank back in response.

"I'll tell you some other time." Matthew had evidently decided that he'd spent enough time on the subject.

In the distant Gilbert could see a object growing closer, taking shape. When they were close enough he made the shape out as a-

"A gas station, good we can stop there and stock up on food supplies and the like." Matthew said blandly. As gilbert slowed down, Matthew pulled out his hockey stick and the gun he'd used to shoot Arthur. He heard the click as guns began to get loaded in the back.

"Alright Gilbert, I want you to slow down enough for us get to out. You'll need to fill up on gas, so I want at least one of you to stay here and keep a look out. Francis, Lovino you come with me. Romano I want you to stay here." Matthew unleashed these orders so quickly, it was clear he was used to this sort of thing.

"And who the fuck died and put you in charge?" the insult came hurling with forced from the back seat of the van. Gilbert was impressed the Italian had enough courage to say that to Matthew after the death glare he'd gotten. Matthew simply looked back in the van at the Italian, his violet eyes flashing a warning.

"Arthur." The entire van went uncomfortably silent at that. No one spoke for a long time; they all just finished getting ready for the impending sound of shots that were bound to happen.

They got closer to the gas station and the tension in the car grew higher. Gilbert slowed down without parking, he watched as a red hoodie gracefully flew out of the van in the direction of the convenience part of the gas station. Then glanced back as French locks dove out of the car, and an Italian curl bounced out with gun at the ready. Gilbert didn't really like Lovino, but he had to admit the guy was a good shot.

"So Gil~ let's get that gas huh?" the Spanish accent rang through the van. Reminding Gilbert of what he was to do.

"Right." Gilbert pulled the car so it was next to the gas pump; he turned it off knowing the engine would cancel out the approach of one of 'them'. With his gun at the ready the silverette got out and began to fill the tank of the van. They were there for ten minutes, and gilbert had managed to fill up not only the tank, but also the multiple plastic gas holders they'd managed to get their hands on.

He was seated back in the driver's seat, the engine running, waiting for the trio that went in to finally come out. He was nervous because Antonio was nervous, that was it. He wasn't at all worried for the violet eyed man they'd saved.

When gunshots rang out from the store, both in the car jumped. They glanced at each other for exactly one second before they heard the voice of Lovino Vargas shouting at them to open the van door.

"OPEN THE FUCKING VAN DOOR YOU BASTARDS! LET'S GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" another gunshot, the sliding of the metal door, and the panting of an Italian trying to catch his breath, the rustling of dozens of plastic bags. Then the giant banging noises as more gunshots were fired in the store, something shouted at them in French, and more rustling of plastic bags. Finally the sound of another pair of footsteps as Matthew came strolling out of the store.

"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU FUCKING WALKING! LETS GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE IT GETS US!" the shout rang out from the smaller man's lungs. It didn't seem to register with the strolling man. His hands were casually in his hoodies pockets, and at least another two dozen hung on his arms. His hockey stick slung casually on his shoulder. A true feat of familiarity with the object and talent, Gilbert was marveling at this, when he heard it.

The low moan that said hunger for flesh, hunger for what was. He watched in horror as one of 'them' cam lumbering out from the store. An eyeball hanging out of its socket, skin a pale blue from the ceasing of blood flow and warmth, clothes stained with dried blood and- gilbert almost hurled when he saw what else 'Its' clothes were stained with. Little flecks of flesh, he was sure some of it was organs.

Everyone now began to desperately shout at him to go faster. It was all a mixture of shouts, and even languages. It was almost as unintelligible as 'their' moans, than gilbert saw it reach out missing Matthew by inches. His eyes went wide and he shouted, "BEHIND YOU!"

Matthew's eye's visibly darkened into something cold and cruel. He flung all the bags into the van, expertly hitting the opposite inside wall of the van, before spinning around grabbing his hockey stick in both hands in the process. He then proceeded to sweep 'It' from under itself, he cringed silently when he heard the thump of back on cement. He almost lost what little food he had in his stomach when he heard the crack as Matthews hockey stick came down on 'Its' knee caps, breaking 'Its' legs, then Matthew turned one more time before turning back and breaking 'Its' neck with the hockey stick.

The moaning ceased, and all was silent. Matthew began to casually stroll back to the van once again, his violet orbs showing no emotion. Matthew climbed into the van, not looking at anyone but Francis. Once the van door was closed, Matthew moved. He lunged forward and grabbed Francis by the front of his shirt. Anger flashing across every feature, his voice came out as a hiss when he spoke. It was menacing, cruel, and above all else angry.

"You could've gotten us killed, you could've gotten us infected." Matthew's eyes bore into Francis'. Francis gulped before voicing his own depressed opinion.

"What's the point? What's the point in surviving if rosbif isn't here to survive with me?" the Frenchmen froze the car at the voicing of his point of view. There was only a split second in which Gilbert saw Matthew's brow furrow further.

Matthew threw his hand back, brought it back crashing down upon Francis' cheek. The sound seemed to resonate around the van, as the seat soaked it in, and the roof let it air out of the van. Then the hissing voice was back, except this was even worse, it was calm.

"You think you're the only suffering? Well let me tell you, I've seen women get infected because their child was and they wouldn't let them go. I've seen men, strong men collapse and turn in front of me because they were protecting their family. I've seen people dye and come back a lot more than you have. So don't give me the self-pity act for a second," Matthew looked around the van before continuing "You don't have the luxury of it either, we need to keep to moving. You can either try and move on and survive for Arthur, or we can leave you here out in the open. With no weapons, and we can survive and continue on. Which is it?" when Francis didn't respond Matthew looked him up and down before commenting in the same tone.

"You've got skinny legs even though they are long. Let's hope you have enough stamina to run from 'them'" Francis gulped before shaking his head no. gilbert sighed a breath of relief that they wouldn't have to leave one of his best friends behind. Matthew nodded before climbing to the passenger seat, hockey stick still tucked close to his body.

Gilbert stole one stare at his magnificent profile before starting the engine and driving away from the gas station.


	3. Clean it all away

-Matthew-

Matthew continued staring at the road, refusing to look at anyone. Yet he kept feeling those crimson eyes on his cheek, just being stared at that much would make him blush. Instead of doing just that he decided to review what led up to this. What led up to him losing everything to Them.

_The infection had taken hold of Canada's southern ally, America. The Canadian government did what they could, officially closed the border from America to Canada. They erected a fence, and would let fleeing American's through given they weren't infected._

_Everything just carried on as per usual in Matthew's life. He woke up, went to his job, got groceries afterwards, and then went home and to bed. His adult life certainly hadn't turned out how he imagined it. He wasn't what he wanted to be, which Matthew realized he didn't know what that was._

_He was naïve in the sense that he __believed__ the fence would hold. He was sitting on his couch one night in his tiny apartment, when there was someone knocking at his apartment door. Begrudgingly leaving the book he'd been reading, he answered it, surprised to find his older half -Brother Alfred standing there on his threshold._

_The next year was rigorous; everyday his brother woke him up early, made him attend self-defense classes, and most of all he made him do parkour. Matthew had always assumed it was just Alfred just being Alfred. It all changed when the fences broke. _

_When the news surged through Canada about a breach in the fence, every Canadian citizen could be seen on the street with a weapon, and Alfred had left gone back down to America. When three months had passed with no report of any turnings, people began to relax, but Matthew didn't relax. So when one day he was walking through the streets on the day IT happened. He was more than prepared._

Matthew was snapped out of his reverie when the van slowly jerked to a stop at an out of place highway motel. He glanced around at everyone in the van as they all got out, including Gilbert. Matthew gulped and slipped out as well.

Lovino went in with Antonio, and the two scouted the area looking for 'them'. When they gave the safe signal ten minutes later all of them went inside the abandoned motel. Matthew immediately found an empty, safe, room. Looking around he went into the bathroom, and tested the shower. Thankfully it was working, he breathed in relief. Finally he could get himself clean, finally he could make all the killing like a distant memory. Which he knew it wasn't, there would always end up being more killing. As more and more people got infected, died, and turned. His breath caught in his throat as he thought about that day.

The more he thought about it, the deeper he sank into self- loathing and depression. The deeper he sank into self –loathing, the more dangerous he became to those kind enough to take him in. the more dangerous he became, the more people he'd have to leave. It was a seemingly unending cycle, it was an unfortunate truth that had entered his life.

Something he had no control over.

As the internal rant went on his conscious about having to leave these people soon, the water had heated up to a satisfactory warm temperature. Stepping out of his clothes, setting his hockey stick on the wall next to the towel rack, Matthew found a sweet reprieve in the too hot water.

He stood there letting the liquid flow over his bare skin. Watching from beneath his eyelashes as the dried blood ran down the drain. With the blood came the violent memories, of gore and decisions he'd never wanted to make. With the memories came the inner turmoil, then the self- chastising, then the hatred of himself, an unfortunate cycle that seemed to never end, and had been a part of his life since 'IT' happened.

As an attempt at distracting himself from the thoughts, he became to scrub his skin raw with the available cleansers. He scrubbed and scrubbed, trying to clean away the memories of a time before his life was about survival, when he could take a walk without a weapon in hand. Before these strange people saw him, fighting for his life. Before Gilbert, Matthew stopped there. Why was he thinking that? He didn't know Gilbert, and Gilbert didn't know him. The man had simply helped save him from a certain infection and turning.

Lars had only been gone a few months, and already it appeared Matthew was searching for his replacement. No, Matthew had never been attracted to Lars. The two had merely been good friends, there was no sexual attraction on any level for either of them. Yet still it felt like a hole was made in his life, when Lars went.

Matthew leaned up against the shower wall as the memories of that day came flooding back to him, memories of people screaming, running for their lives. Most to no avail whatsoever, horrifying images of teeth sinking into flesh, of blood flooding from infected bites, his ears filling with the sound of hungry gluttonous moans, were filling with the screams of people dying, with the screams and tears of people surviving. He gulped down the lump that threatened his throat when he thought upon that woman who'd clutched her daughter to her chest as the little girl turned. Images flashed in front of his eyelids of old men and women not even trying to run.

Matthew paused in his thoughts, and recollections. When he heard one of the others find his hiding place.

"Matt, you in here?" the German accent rang through the room. Matthew gulped down whatever insult he'd been intent on hurling at the intruder. Thinking better of staying silent he took a breath before speaking.

"Y-yes, I'm in here, just cleaning myself up." He called over the rushing of the water, "In fact I'm actually done." Matthew reached out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist. Turning the water off, Matthew tucked his trusty hockey stick beneath his arm, and gathering up his clothes from the bathroom floor. He trotted out from the misty, warm, moist bathroom.

Water pooled and dropped from his fringe, beads of water running down his exposed torso. Matthew swept his hair back, as he chose to ignore the albino standing by the bed.

Without removing his towel from his waist, Matthew pulled on his boxers again. Dropping his towel once his boxers were on he stepped into jeans, than pulled his undershirt over his wet curls, finishing the ensemble with his red hoodie. Turning once fully clothed to look straight into crimson eyes, and a flush pale face.

-Gilbert-

Gilbert had to admit, Matthew was stunning when wet. His hair no long coated in dried blood, skin not covered with red hoodie, violet eyes no longer obscured by glinting pieces of glass.

The albino stood there slightly stunned, as he reviewed what had led him to this particular situation. They'd been scavenging for food in the manager's room, and the other motel rooms. When they all noticed their 'leader' was no longer with them. Gilbert would never admit it, but when he realized that Matthew wasn't with them fear gripped at his throat as sorrow clutched his lungs. He found himself honestly praying to a god that he'd given up on a day after 'IT' happened.

Praying that Matthew hadn't somehow, gotten infected and already turned, praying that he was still well, that he could continue with them. Gilbert had broken from the group in search of Matthew, when he saw the open motel room door relief briefly flooded over him. Before it was replaced by dread, dread that somehow what he feared had somehow happened. So with weapon at the ready he cautiously walked into the room. Not being immediately assaulted by hungry starving teeth, and cannibalistic hands was taken as a good sign, deciding to call into the room, just in case his half-hearted prayers had been answered.

"Matt, you in here?" he let his voice sound around the room

"Y-yes, I'm in here, just cleaning myself up," the surprisingly soft delicate voice called out, "In fact I'm actually done."

Getting an answer was added to Gilberts list of 'Amazing Moments in the Life of Gilbert Weilschmit'. He was about to leave and tell the others. Matthew was simply taking a shower, they needn't worry anymore. Then he got _out. _

Gilbert's breath hitched at how simply marvelous Matthew looked with the mist pouring from the bathroom. Not to mention the light made him look like he was wearing a halo.

Crimson watched as a surprisingly lithe muscled body, walked across the room to rest his clothes on the given bed. A pale Addams apple moved up and down as he caught sight of creamy skin beneath the towel.

Gilbert was sure his pale face was now a bright red against his white skin when Matthew turned to look at him after he changed. An awkward silence settled between them, until Matthew let an almost silent cough pass between his surprisingly feminine lips.

"A-ah! Right, well I guess we should head back to everyone then!" He turned to leave, stopping when he felt a hand wrap around his wrist. Gilbert turned and stared into those lavender eyes. Something was trying to be said by Matthew through his eyes, it was obviously not working.

His crimson eyes darted down to where the other man's fingers wrapped around his pale ghostly wrist. They rested there marveling at how well those long calloused fingers seemed to wrap around his scrawny albino wrist. Gilbert's eyes darted over to his other hand, where the grip on the hockey stick seemed to tighten.

When he glanced back up at those now violet eyes he saw something for a brief moment before he heard it. Those hungry starved gurgling moans, coming from deep within an empty body, no longer alive. Violet now cold and emotionless again, shoved crimson behind.

Matthew held out his hockey stick in front of him as 'it' lunged forwards. Teeth bare, lips dangling from slack skin. Literally its lips were swinging as a small piece of skin held it in place. Stomach lurching, Gilbert held his gun aloft ready to fire. 'It' stumbled forward after being pushed back. 'It' got a hold of the hockey stick and neared Matthew's exposed wrist, teeth starving for the flesh of the man holding the weapon.

Gilbert's eyes widened as adrenaline and a sudden possessive growl ripped through him. He aimed quickly fueled by adrenaline, and pulled the trigger. 'It' fell back as the bullet ripped through its skull, effectively hitting the brain and blasting out from behind. Gilbert glanced over and saw Matthew looking at him with now frightened lavender eyes, face ashen white. Tears began to pool in his eyes, as he whispered something, the words slipping through his plump feminine lips.

"Where you bitten?" Gilbert once again prayed to the God he'd forsaken, turned his back on. "_If you really do exist, than please. Let him be okay._" He found himself silently praying once again.

Matthew shook his head 'no' as tears streamed down his face. Gilbert breathed a sigh of relief. Thanking whatever entity was out there.

"I-I'm fine..." Matthew whispered before drying his eyes, and going back to his cold detached self. Gilbert's heart fluttered at the realization that he'd just witnessed a rare moment of emotion from Matthew. Well rare ever since they found him, fighting for his life on the street of whatever god forsaken city they'd been in.

Heart pounding in his chest the two walked back to the group. No one paid them mind. All were too busy getting whatever they'd scavenged from inside the motel.

Back on the road again Matthew cleared his throat before saying to the rest of the car, no one in particular was spoken too. Yet they all listened, Matthew seemed to that air about him.

"When I first arrived, when you guys rescued me, I heard you mention something a 'sanctuary'?"

"Yeah, Francis back there said there was somewhere we could go. You know, and be safe." Gilbert responded for everyone.

He glanced over at Matthew before going back to staring at the road. Matthew had seemed contemplative as he continued driving and glancing at him. Finally after of ten minutes of driving in silence, Matthew spoke.

"I know where you're talking about. I can get you there."


	4. 20 Questions

-Antonio-

The entire van fell silent as the words passed through Matthew's lips. Antonio felt it best he speak up before Lovino flew into an irrational rage. He glanced over at his Italian companion seeing him ready to burst with anger, Antonio spoke.

"_Asi no es que algo~_ Why didn't you tell us before…?" for the life of him Antonio couldn't remember the strangers name. He dismissed it though, because forgetting things was in his nature. He still felt rude none the less for not knowing his name.

"Matthew. My name's Matthew." Matthew twisted around in his seat to get a better look at the other passengers.

"So, why didn't you tell us before Matthew?" asked Antonio once again, unsatisfied that only one question had been answered.

"I didn't trust any of you, but now I see this as an opportunity. I have information you need; you have the means to get me there." He'd turned back around and now was talking to the windshield.

At first it made no sense to Antonio, then he understood. Ever since the infections began people lied about their being infected, they lied about their infection and that was how the last safe havens had fallen. People lied because they didn't want others to know.

"The 'sanctuary' is in the US. I know which state, but I don't know where. It'll probably have to be somewhere they can depend on the land, reducing the chance of trips out for supply, thus reducing the number of the infected." The windshield held a reflection of determined cold violet eyes. Antonio held his breath, thinking about all the states he knew. He glanced over at Lovino, who'd been sitting surprisingly quiet.

"Which state then?" asked Gilbert up front, Antonio noticed him glance several times at Matthew throughout the duration of their, companion ship? Could it be called friendship? No, it couldn't be called that. Antonio wasn't sure they even had anything with the young stranger.

'Convenience, that's what we have with him. He has the convenience of information whereas we have the convenience of transportation. Whether any of us like it or not, we're stuck together.' These thoughts played across Antonio's mind, they danced across his vision accompanied by blood. So much blood, somehow he found himself thinking back. Thinking back to the day this all went wrong.

_He'd been walking with Lovino, they'd been heading back to the van the six had been living in since they sought refuge in Canada. Groceries in hand the two were talking, and wondering if the people back home had found refuge. When they'd left there were rumors of a sanctuary in Poland, England, and in Germany._

_They were speculating if their little brothers had survived as they neared the van._

"_There is no way that sweet little Feliciano would go around chopping these things heads off. No way at fucking all, do you hear me? No way." Lovino was arguing with Antonio if Feliciano, his little brother, was still alive._

"_You never know Lovi. Near death situations change people, especially people as sweet and bubbly as Feliciano." Antonio sent a kind smile to the back of Lovino's head, trying to ease the worried look in his eyes as he got into the van. Antonio looked around and was disappointed to see that two of their friends weren't there._

"_Where're Gilbert and Elizaveta?" his eyes searched Francis', but Francis simply stared at him. He was too mesmerized in the feel of the Englishman asleep against his shoulder. _

"_They started to fight again, then Liz just stormed out of the van. Gilbert went after her." A voice with an English lilt responded sleepily. Antonio did nothing more than put the groceries away, and make sure they had enough money to buy some dinner that night._

"-I'll need a map of the US, so I can tell where we're headed…we should probably stop somewhere for the night." The voice leaked through Antonio's memories, and brought him back to the present. Away from his daydreams of times simpler, of times before Canada's fences broke and everyone believed they were safe, from that peaceful world, to the cold harsh reality that his life had become since the infections started. A reality of killing and killing, just so he could survive another day.

-Gilbert-

They drove a couple more hours before everyone dropped off, after stopping at another gas station and getting a road map of course. Francis leaned his head against the window, muttering something about eyebrows, he was missing Arthur. Lovino was leaning against Antonio, the Spaniard had on the happiest face ever. Gilbert would glance over from time to time to look at Matthew, to study the bridge of his nose for a few seconds. Watch the way his fringe moved as he breathed out in his sleep, how his eyelashes fluttered over his cheeks.

Gilbert glanced over at around 12:30 am and was startled to see Matthew looking right back at him. Ruby catching violet, before ruby had to correct the car from going off the road and into the woods. Violet chuckled, Gilbert gulped.

"So Matthew where're we going exactly?" asked Gilbert without straying his ruby red eyes from the road. He heard the rustle of paper as Matthew consulted the map they'd managed to scrounge up around sunset.

"Take a right here, and in another day we'll be at the border." Gilbert didn't like the way Matthew talked as if automatically. As if he wasn't human merely a machine, a machine made to kill Them.

Gilbert chanced a glance. Tearing his eyes away from the darkened road, he looked over to see Matthew concentrated on the map. Brows scrunched, a frown pulling his lips down. He seemed to be constantly pushing his hair out of his lavender eyes, adjusting his round wire framed glasses.

"So Matthew, why don't you tell me something about yourself?" Gilbert was tired of guessing at who Matthew was. He wanted to know something about the blondes past, about how he knew what he knew.

"Like twenty questions?" his voiced sounded reluctant

"Yeah! Lets start, where're you from?" he could feel his palms getting sweaty from nerves at what he planned to find out. It was underhanded and sneaky in some ways, but who knew when he'd get a chance to find out more about the mysterious young man.

"Ottawa, Canada. Nineteen more questions to go." The blonde had answered rather sarcastically.

"Okay… Do you have any siblings? What're their names? How many?"

"Yes. Alfred. One sibling, my half brother. Sixteen questions left"

"Parent's names? When's your birthday?"

" I don't remember. July 3rd. Fourteen more questions."

Gilbert let himself think for a moment, trying to think how he'd word the question that had been tugging at him since they rescued him. Matthew resumed looking out of the windshield.

"How did you get to that place where we found you?"

"Pass"

"No you can't pass such an important question!"

"Pass."

"C'mon, I think I have a right to-"

"A right?! A right to ask me questions that I don't want to answer? Are you fucking kidding me?!" the blonde's outburst startled Gilbert and the van swerved slightly on the abandoned road, Matthew's voice was beginning to rise from anger (though Gilbert had no idea why), "I said pass, because obviously I don't want to answer that question! What the fuck makes you think I would answer that?!"

Someone began to stir in the back. Matthew clamped his mouth shut and froze. Gilbert pouted to the road ahead. Mumbles were heard, than more contented sleeping breathing. Followed by an exasperated one.

"I'm sorry." the apology wasn't anticipated on Gilbert's part. He glanced at Matthew, ruby eyes wide, then quickly turned his attention back to the road ahead of them.

"What?"

"I said I'm sorry. Now shut up and drive…" Gilbert chanced a glance at Matthews' evidently embarrassed profile. He was met by the image of a dusting of pink on a normally pale face, violet eye downcast causing long eyelashes to become even more distinct. His wavy long fringe was pushed behind his left ear. Lips pulled together in an obvious attempt at trying to hold back a smile.

"I should be the one apologizing not you."

"You're making it exceedingly difficult to take this seriously."

"Take what seriously? I see nothing to be serious about, all I see is a Frenchman who'sclothes still look to nice to have gone through a bunch of 'Them'. An irritable Italian, and a happy-go-lucky Spaniard."

"What about you?"

The question caught Gilbert of guard. Startled scarlet looked at violet filled with myrth.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you see when you look at yourself?"

Gilbert blinked, wide eyed, at the forwardness and unexpectedness of the question. The man actually was genuinely interested in Gilberts insecurities, really?

"Nothing much, just some guy with a birth defect-"

"Is that how you see it?"

"See what?"

"Your skin, and hair, and…eyes…" Matthew trailed off and began staring at him. Gilbert looked over at him in time to see a blush spread across his cheeks. Gilbert smiled, in this small moment it would've been easy to forget what had happened to the world outside the van. To simply drive, and drive. With nothing in mind but Matthew.

The thought of this was disturbing of course, how could he get so attached to someone within a 24 hour period?

-Matthew-

He watched as the trees surrounding them cleared, and he saw the skeleton of a black fence in the distant. They were a good 50 miles from it; that was just how tall the government had built it.

He studied the sun slipping across the horizon, sky going from pitch black to pink a matter of moments. He observed the clouds, and the shadows cast from the light radiated from millions of miles away.

A sunbeam fell on Francis' face and he stirred. Groaning, and mumbling about French breakfasts and beds so soft it was like clouds.

Matthew felt the ghost of a smile pass across his face.

"Morning sleeping beauties! We're at the border, now where do we go Matt?" Gilberts voice rang though the van of awakening people from the bliss of sleep to the cold harshness of their reality.

"South. Keep going to south, I only have an idea of where this place is okay."

"South…"

"Yep. South."

If they went south Matthew was sure he'd be able to get their bearings and find his way to where ever his brother was.


	5. Truth comes out

-Gilbert-

They'd been driving for at least a solid two days, without stopping.

Tensions were running high as they all began to get sick of the cramped confines of the van. Lovino had cursed out the world, and Antonio at least twice that day. The further they drove south the closer they got to where ever they were going. For the past two days he'd been distracted by what Matthew had told them when everyone was awake, and the fence had been looming closer than ever.

"_I bet you're all wondering why I ended up where I did when you found me, and how I know where we're going." The van was hushed to silence by these words, Matthew turned to face Gilberts profile._

_Matthew looked straight at Gilbert when he finally answered his question, violet eyes calculating his profiles reaction to each word that passed through his lips. _

"_I was in Ottawa, when it happened. I had been walking home to my apartment, groceries in hand. Of course I am forever paranoid, and had my hockey stick with me. When I heard it. A strangled groan, like someone getting hit over the head. I looked and saw one of them. I bashed his head in, without any I just looked down the street and there were thousands of them. All of them surging forward in this mass of darkness. _

"_The noise was the worst really, it was so loud and yet so quiet I wanted to just stop and cover my ears. People started to panic, and run. I tried to help this kid that had been abandoned by his Dad in the chaos. I watched as one of 'them' sunk their teeth into his arm, and tore off a good chunk of his flesh. All the while no one stops to help anyone. Kids abandoned where they stood, old folks just hobbling into the horde. I saw this one old guy grab a gun from his coat and mutter that he wasn't gonna dye like them. Then he just shot himself in the mouth._

"_So I ran, I ran to this place where a friend of mine and I had decided we'd meet there when this exact thing happened. I waited for at least two hours before he showed up in a car. He looked terrible covered in blood that wasn't his own. His little sister was in the backseat, she was completely quit, seemed to be shaking a bit. Probably having flashbacks to what had happened in Belgium._

"_We drove for at least six hours before coming upon the place you'd picked me up at. Squatted there with some people that knew a thing or two. _

"_Until one day shit hit the fan, and my friend became infected. He willingly gave himself over too. It had turned out that two weeks prior his sister was infected, she turned of course. He was the one that had to kill her for good. I'll never forget how he looked that day. Sure they fought a lot, mostly nothing more than petty arguments blown way out proportion, but they were still siblings dammit. And that day he looked like he was disgusted with himself, with the world, and also like his world and ended._

"_The people I'd squatted with 'til then decided the place was no longer safe, and booked it. I like to think they got away, but it wasn't likely since I'd been fending off one of the two when you found me." Matthew had paused here, allowing everyone a moment to react. Contemplate what he'd just told them._

The van jolted as Gilbert ran over of 'Them'. It seemed that the further south they drove the more of 'Them' they saw.

_The air was tense in the van. No one knew how to respond to Matthew's story. Gilbert had cleared his throat, something to fill the heavy silence in the confined space._

"_How do you know where we're headed then huh?" Lovino was the only one to ask the question. Everyone did nothing but secretly admire him for asking it in that moment._

"_My half-brother, Alfred, was a scientist before 'this'," when he said 'this' Matthew waved his hand gesturing to the window, "happened. He'd been researching a way to change genetics so that people would live even longer than they do now. He was so convinced he'd found just what he needed. _

"_So he did trial runs on people. Convicted criminals really. Unfortunately people didn't live longer. They simply exhibited the symptoms that tip off the infected, and then they drop dead. No sooner than two minutes or so later they'd rise again. _

"_Except this time they were a little hungry. He explained to me that a guard had gotten infected, and it just spread from there. Basically he's responsible for everything."_

_Gilbert thought about Matthew's words for a moment, "No, he can't be responsible for everything-"_

"_Yes, he is," Matthew interrupted Gilbert anger lacing his voice as he spoke, "He was the one in charge of the project. He never gave the order to kill the test subjects when things went wrong. _

"_He was the one who let his pride get in the way of better judgment. He indirectly killed thousands of people, and he's the one who let 'Them' into Canada."_

The fence was now in clear sight, and the gap comprised of gnarled metal seemed much larger up close. Lovino leaned out an open window, picking off them as they approached from a distance. Gilbert pressed down on the gas.

They had only one shot at getting through that gap with relative to no resistance.

"_That still doesn't answer Lovino's question." Francis had spoken up with a hoarse voice. Everyone had jumped they'd gotten too used to his silence._

_Matthew drew his lips into a fine line. He pulled his eyebrows together, and let out a puff of air that seemed to have been building his chest for some time. The van fell silent again._

"_I know where we're headed because of my brother. He was living with me for a while before it all happened here. He'd put me through intense an training regimen; made me learn parkour, and other forms of self-defense. At first I thought it was just Al being Al. I thought he was teaching me these things so I could protect myself._

"_I was completely wrong._

Blood splattered across the side windows as they ran over more of them. Gilbert was flooring it by now. Pushing the van to go faster, adrenaline pumping through his veins. His eyes intent on the gap ahead, his thoughts warning him about that foreboding feeling in his stomach.

The sun reaching it's all time high as they crushed bones, ran over skulls, and died the van a perpetual shade of red. Which would fade into a color of rust, and not give them much of an advantage over hoards.

Images flashed at the back of Gilberts mind as they were only two miles away. Pictures of smiles, and of people he'd never see again. Images of all those he hoped were still alive somewhere, and would be alive when this was all over.

Ludwig, Feliciana, Elizabeta, Roderich, Francis, Antonio, and Matthew… Matthew? Wait, why would he wish that? He'd only known Matthew a few short days. Sure he thought the man attractive, but there was something else there as well. Something in the way he looked so sad, and so lonely when he'd look into his crimson eyes in that motel room. Matthew had look scared, he seemed to be pleading.

He looked unbearably lonely.

"_He was teaching me all that shit because he's a complete asshole. He never gave a shit about me. Only about himself, and his precious 'creations' fucking insane is what he is."_

"_Where are we headed may I ask?" Gilbert had spoken up with a courage he didn't he had. Especially when it came to Matthew. It wasn't that he feared Matthew, it was the fact Matthew seemed not to be afraid of anything. His gaze was cold emotionless, and appeared void of a conscious. So when he showed Gilbert emotions like loneliness in his eyes, he was scared shitless. He didn't like it, he preferred the Matthew that they'd picked up._

_That Matthew was cold, strong, and constant. He was in charge of all his faculties, he would never slip up. He would keep them all healthy and uninfected. So when he was shown someone that contradicted this impression, he was terrified._

"_Texas."_

"_Texas?" was the resounding reply from the rest of the van._

"_Yes. Texas." Matthews gaze was directed forward, but that didn't stop him from stealing glances. Through the reflection of the windshield, he had a perfect vantage view of Gilberts scarlet eyes._

-Matthew-

Lovino was shooting out of the window and continued to pick them off. Matthew stared straight ahead. His face as blank as he could make it, if they made it through where They had burst through. Then they could get to Texas, he could kill his brother. Only then would he be able to rest, when his brother was dead and gone.

Matthew glanced occasionally over at Gilbert, he was certainly handsome. He seemed kind and able. He looked like someone who'd be able to handle himself. Someone who'd hold Matthew and tell him everything was fine. Someone Matthew would be more willing to protect.

As Gilbert gunned the engine and they crashed through the fence, everyone cheered, everyone except for Matthew. There wasn't much to cheer about in his opinion. He was focusing closely on the ultimate goal of getting them to the safe haven. Killing his brother came after, came later.


End file.
